


The Morality of the Issue

by AirgiodSLV



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-16
Updated: 2005-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16136384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirgiodSLV/pseuds/AirgiodSLV
Summary: For a wonder, Orlando’s the sober one tonight, having arrived late from night shoots to the party going on in their favourite local pub. Elijah, on the other hand, is at least six sheets to the wind, possibly seven, and feeling no pain.“Stairs!” Elijah crows, which Orlando supposes is a triumphal exclamation in celebration of the fact that they’d managed to make it up the entire flight without killing themselves. Orlando would second it, but he’s really just glad that they’re here, and more than ready to head back to his own place and pass out.





	The Morality of the Issue

**Author's Note:**

> Can’t sleep? Write. Also, meant to prove that I am not getting entirely sucked into That Other Fandom.

“Oof,” Orlando says when they’ve finally staggered into Elijah’s bedroom, and Elijah hits the bed with a thump and a giggle as soon as Orlando stops fully supporting him. For a wonder, Orlando’s the sober one tonight, having arrived late from night shoots to the party going on in their favourite local pub. Elijah, on the other hand, is at least six sheets to the wind, possibly seven, and feeling no pain.

“Stairs!” Elijah crows, which Orlando supposes is a triumphal exclamation in celebration of the fact that they’d managed to make it up the entire flight without killing themselves. Orlando would second it, but he’s really just glad that they’re here, and more than ready to head back to his own place and pass out.

“Yeah,” he agrees wearily. “Get some sleep, ’Lij, and don’t forget to drink some juice in the morning. Asprin’s on the table.”

“Orlando,” Elijah sighs, giggle fit now spent and dissolved into something else, a languid peace that makes his eyelids droop and his arm wave vaguely through the air when it attempts to ensnare Orlando’s wrist. “Stay.”

It’s tempting, if he wasn’t sure that Elijah would cling like a limpet, and they haven’t done this enough times for him to be sure of his reception in the morning. “I should go,” he murmurs, but he allows Elijah to drag him down for a kiss, just familiar enough and half-sloppy, Elijah’s usual fierce concentration and hunger bled into lassitude.

“Orlando,” Elijah sighs, a whisper of breath against his lips. “I want you to fuck me.”

He’s surprised, but more than that he’s a realist, and Elijah is more than plastered. “It would be taking advantage,” Orlando argues, regretting the fact but still certain that Elijah’s in no shape to be considered in control of his faculties.

Elijah scowls at him, the expression rapidly fading into a cranky pout. “We’ve had sex before, it would be the same thing.”

“No it wouldn’t, we’re not exactly in a _relationship,_ ” Orlando emphasizes, although his lips are still moving over Elijah’s cheekbone, and the warm, musky-smelling hollow below his earlobe. “And we haven’t really had sex yet, anyway.”

And they haven’t – the latest attempt has been their greatest success, with Orlando actually making it all the way inside before Elijah’s body had clamped down around the intrusion like a heated vise, and Orlando’s traitorous cock had taken that as the signal to come without warning or any actual thrusting. All in all, it wasn’t a _failure,_ but still not what they’d been hoping for when they decided to start messing around together.

“But I’m all nice and relaxed,” Elijah argues with the perfectly reasonable earnestness of the utterly toasted. “It’ll be better this time.”

Blue-eyed temptation stares hopefully up at him, sprawled lethargically across the bed, and Orlando gives up the fight and capitulates in less than a minute. If he’s being honest, he was never really that set on the morality of the issue anyway. Elijah might not be clear-headed right now, but he’s made his opinions on the matter known multiple times when they were both sober, so Orlando guesses he can take that as tacit consent and permission to molest him when he’s not.

“Never letting you do car bombs with Dom again,” he warns, stripping Elijah’s shirt and trousers off while Elijah wriggles happily and unhelpfully beneath him. His own clothes come off just as fast, which should probably serve to underscore the point that he doesn’t seem to be struggling too much with the ethics of a horny, drunken, and petulant Elijah in bed, demanding to be fucked.

“Where did you put the…? mmph,” Orlando attempts, fighting with a condom wrapper while Elijah winds his limbs around Orlando’s torso in a good approximation of his sleeping limpet impersonation and begins licking his throat enthusiastically.

The lube is still in the bed table drawer where it was last time, conveniently enough, and Orlando manages to squirt some into his hand in between scorching, mostly-coordinated kisses. “You’re not making this any easier,” he breathes when Elijah finally breaks the kiss to resume his exploration of Orlando’s throat and collarbones.

“Sex,” Elijah reminds him with great presence of mind, hips somehow rising off the bed to jam against Orlando’s in heated reminder of their goal. “Now.”

Orlando shuts Elijah up with a lubed finger and a kiss, and Elijah squirms briefly against him in complaint before relaxing with a purr. This has always been the easy part…well, this and blow jobs. It remains to be seen whether they can actually make it through the full fucking without one or both of them bringing the activity to an early end. But Elijah seems right so far – his muscles relax and loosen with a minimum of coaxing from Orlando, and they’ve moved on to three fingers faster than Orlando can ever remember.

“In me,” Elijah reminds him helpfully, rubbing his cheek against anything of Orlando’s he can reach like an attention-seeking kitten. Orlando’s torn between laughing and swearing, and settles for lifting Elijah’s legs higher onto his back and giving him what he’s asking for.

“Oh,” Elijah says, eyes going wide as he inhales. Orlando has to stop to pant for breath as soon as he’s in, because Elijah hasn’t clamped down, exactly, but his muscles are clenching around Orlando in little curious ripples, like he’s not sure yet about this, but is willing to investigate the sensation. It’s only a matter of time before Orlando’s cock decides it can’t take the pressure, so he pulls back – teeth gritted because it’s fucking tight, and Elijah doesn’t feel altogether willing to let him go – and thrusts in again, and Elijah says “Oh,” again in that soft, wondering voice, and Orlando’s losing his mind.

“Feels nice,” Elijah breathes, barely moving at all, just letting Orlando guide them both. And it does, it’s bloody amazing, and Elijah’s grip around his cock is less urgent now, more of a weak clenching protest every time Orlando pulls back before the next thrust, which only does really great things for their friction. It’s incredible, but it’s also not going to last long, and some part of Orlando’s overheated brain remembers to reach down and stroke Elijah’s cock, hot and hard between their bodies…which only results in more frantic squirming and hissing, and the amount of clenching Elijah’s body is doing around his cock doubles instantaneously.

“I’m flying,” Elijah gasps, and Orlando hopes desperately that Elijah isn’t high as well, but he kind of feels that way himself, hot and cold and out of his head, soaring, and when he comes Elijah makes soft mewling noises and his cock convulses in Orlando’s hand.

They actually do better at the kissing this time, Elijah passively allowing Orlando to plunder his mouth, expressing his approval with little chirping sighs that die muffled against Orlando’s tongue. Orlando exhales as his body finally relaxes, coming down slowly. His cock twinges a bit, reminding him that the pressure inside Elijah hasn’t let up with his orgasm, and it’s starting to be just a bit too much to take comfortably.

He pulls back, intending to clean them up a bit and settle in for a nice long sleep beside Elijah, but all of Elijah’s muscles tense at once at soon as he starts to move, and arms wind around him like tentacles, surprisingly strong and resistant.

“No,” Elijah says firmly, eyes feverishly agleam and heels digging into Orlando’s backside in protest. His tone brooks no argument, and Orlando isn’t strong enough to try. “I want to do it again.”

Orlando may reconsider allowing the car bombs. He supposes it depends on whether or not he survives the night.


End file.
